Tales from Heritage Farm

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In the farm field driving tractor, I have the chance to notice what God has done out in the small piece of earth that He has entrusted to us.

The past few weeks have been highly devoted to baling hay. Sometimes I crimp hay, other times I rake hay. Still other times I drive tractor for the baler.

Our fields vary in their sizes and shapes.
One such field we have a trapezium in shape. A trapezium is a four-sided shape where none of the sides are parallel. Hence, one side of the field has a very long row. The other side has a short row. The row lengths vary gradually as we process the hay.

As I drove round and round on that field, I pondered the center rows. They tended to be average in length.

Average is a term that I heard as a youngster. As a student I learned that average was nice. If I was average I was similar to others. If I had average grades, I was just as smart as most other individuals in my class. Average was a “safe” place to be.

Yet as I pondered the term in the field, I noticed that the long row was noticeable. The short row, also was notable. The average rows were rather hard to distinguish from the other rows since their lengths were so close in appearance.

One tendency for us as individuals is to want to be like the rest of the world or to fit into a crowd, to be like them. Yet if we do, we cannot be noticed very well, just as the average rows in my field. As a kid, I stood out. My freckled face made people notice and call me, “Freckle-face.” It was not something that endeared me to them, it separated us. I longed to be like them. But the difference was noticeable, and I stood out in a group.

For a child this was difficult, but I got over it. I like my freckles now. Some might even admire them these days.

The lesson I learned from the field was that the things that make us not-average display God’s creativity. He makes each of us different. We don’t have to be like everyone else. We wear the badge of “Unique” and “Specially-Made”. Which perspective are you living in . . . God’s or the world’s?

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SaveSee our store for some “Specially-made” designed cards that may suit you.

Ivy, our adopted kitten, has been growing up to become a driven kitten. She likes to eat. Food is motivating for her. This could be quite an asset on the farm.

Food is a fine reason for Ivy to pursue her next meal. Unfortunately, she has not been trained to hunt. Even though she has instincts as a cat, her adoptive mother, Baby, is not a hunter. So Ivy does not have a seasoned hunter as an example to follow after. But food still draws her.

Though her cuteness endears her to most of us on the farm, she would be much cuter if she would become a mouser…a cat who keeps the rodent population in check. Several cats who call the farm, home, congregate and tend to wait for a handout. How much nicer it would be to have Mousers to earn their keep.

If the cats don’t do the work, we have to take measures into our own hands. We trap them, the mice, that is. 🙂 We set up a trap for unwanted mice several days ago. And, sure enough an unlucky mouse SNAPPED the trap!

On the farm we find uses for things that others might discard. In this instance, we recycled the dead mouse. We offered it to a “herd of cats” just outside the farmhouse. The fastest cat, the one most interested in a mouse for breakfast was Ivy.

Ivy’s appetite shows her grit. She growls when patted while she has a newly found mouse in her grip. She rejects the advances of curious cats in the “herd”. She is single-mindedly busy.

This could be the discovery of a real hunter on the farm. We here at Heritage Farm certainly hope so. Hurray for IVY! And way to go, Mouse!

How does a Grandfather win the hearts of his children’s children? I suppose there are many ways. But I will share with you a few that seem to work at the farm.

The Grandpa on this farm works hard and diligently to provide for his family. He milks cows and raises chickens and a few Holstein steers. There is much field work to do to maintain the livestock. Time for playing with the grandchildren is limited. However, this Grandpa makes it his aim to do things with his grandchildren when he can.

For the youngest ones, he will hold the babies after his meals. Grandpa and baby seem to fall asleep together. It may only be a few minutes, but that is quality time for them.

As the children grow to toddling, Grandpa gets more active with them. He resorts to playing ball with them in the living room. The child can hear Grandpa’s enthusiasm as he blurts out, “Let’s play ball!” Grandpa sits on the floor and rolls or bounces the ball to his little partner. Sometimes Grandpa can’t find the ball.

“Why is that?” you might ask. When the kids stand close to him, he slips the ball inside the little one’s shirt. So now both child and Grandpa have to look for it. 😆

At meal time, Grandpa has the little one sit beside him in the family high chair, so that Grandpa can help him eat. Occasionally while he holds the spoon, the child’s mouth agape, Grandpa moves the food-laden spoon teasingly close. The child waits patiently while Grandpa glides the spoon off to the side and misses his or her mouth. If it doesn’t work the first time, they both try this again, and sometimes again. This good-humored feeding trick is tolerated well and delights the child. We all get a chuckle from it, too. 😛

The really big thing that delights the kids is the Tractor Ride. When they are old enough, they can ride with Grandpa. It is a slow ride down the driveway in a low gear, on down the farm road and back again. The excitement of riding the big tractor motivates the kids to get out of the house and spend time with Grandpa. 🙂 😀 😛

The Bible tells us in Psalm 127:3 (NKJV), “Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, The fruit of the womb is a reward.”

Our farm is named, Grabau Heritage Farm. We acquired it through our ancestor’s faith and labor. We have labored here ourselves. Although land is valuable, our greatest heritage is from the Lord, our children. Children are our reward. What better hearts are there to win than theirs?

If you have questions about how to load a hay wagon, here are insights into our operation. I hope it might be helpful for you in yours. Our hay wagon measures 8 feet wide and 14 feet long. Generally our small bales, made by our New Holland baler, weigh about 50 pounds each. We load the bales in four sections.

Section 1:

To get them on the wagon without wasted space, we put the first bale in the center, the short side abutting the backboard. The next 2 bales fit on either side of the center bale lengthwise between the bale and the side brackets or chains supporting the backboard. The next six bales go on top of the first layer in a similar fashion in the second and third layers. On the fourth layer, two bales straddle the middle and outer bales of the third layer, tying off and stabilizing the stack.

Once the fourth layer in the stack is completed, the one who stacks the bales starts again from the bed of the wagon, loading the bales lengthwise to complete the first section of the load.

Sections 2 and 3:

The second section and third stacks of bales are made after the same fashion as the first.

Section 4:

The fourth stack is unique. For security’s sake, the lower layer in each front corner of the wagon is laid as the first layer of the stacks in the other sections. The 2nd layer differs. The 2 bales on that layer are criss-crossed over the bottom bales. The third layer is again crossed over the 2nd layer. The center bales are not put in till later. (We must leave space for the person who stacks the bales to stand. It must be left wide enough to hold the depth of the center bale. To do so may require the side stacks to hang a few inches over the edge of the wagon bed.) The center bales are piled up three high like in previous sections. On the top, four bales are stacked lengthwise and overlapping the center bales to ensure more stability to the load.

There are times when we need to bale higher, but we feel this is the prudent level. If it is higher, it is more difficult to see behind us as we drive our tractor with the load of hay in local traffic or parking the load if we are unable to unload them at the end of the day.

Baling is hard work. But the team enjoys the feeling of accomplishment and comradeship in the process. There is reward in a job well-done.

On our farm, we bale small bales. The small bales are seen less and less on the big farms. Round balers make haying a one-man/woman job when the right equipment is available. Since we use older equipment, the small bales suit us just fine. They are easier to handle in spite of the need to have a 3-4 person crew to put up the crop.

The hay wagon is one of the heavy lifters amongst the equipment we use. Besides holding 80 or more bales on a load, some of our wagons are built to convert to grain wagons. Removable walls built for the wagon-bed carry oats and ear corn at harvest time.

The wagon measures approximately 8 feet wide by 14 feet long.

Our particular wagon is especially useful. It has been used for display at celebrations, like being a “float” in a parade.

On one special day in May, we removed the bed of our hay wagon, carpeted it and placed it on our green, grassy, farmyard lawn. It became the platform on which our daughter pledged her life to the love of her life, her husband. They vowed their faithfulness to each other before God and our guests as they stood firmly on the floor of the hay wagon. At their reception, we used a second hay wagon for a serving table. I even made a tablecloth for the occasion. It was very big!

I hope you enjoyed this little peak into how we use a hay wagon on Heritage Farm.

Take a peak at our Farm Buildings Card in our store. There the hay wagon and tractor sit at rest, waiting to go to work in the hay field.

Our little kitten, Ivy, is maturing. She eats solid food and drinks from a saucer. Life is so much easier for us now that she is thriving out of doors with adoptive mother cat, Baby, and her kittens. Ivy is very comfortable with being held and playing with someone. She is always looking for a handout when it comes to feeding time.

My niece caught this picture of Ivy being sociable.

The photo reminded me of how much I enjoy drawing. So I attempted to capture Ivy’s likeness in a pencil drawing. As I considered doing such a drawing, I thought of how cute a kitten such as Ivy could be in a Christmas stocking on December 25.

I did some tracing to get the proper proportions for her body. Next, I started drawing her eyes, nose and mouth. They are the most expressive part of her, so I wanted to work on that when I was still fresh at the task. When fatigued, it is harder to spend the time needed to get the desired effect. Once the eyes, nose and mouth were complete, the markings and her soft feline shape came together quickly. I chose to quit outlining her form at her paw.

It was then that my imagination had to carry the project to completion. I drew a Christmas stocking beneath her. I created a “fireplace” as a backdrop. From this endearing little photo, I got a fun Christmas card to share with you. I did it with pencil only, however we have a colored version you may enjoy. Consider them both for your Christmas greetings this year.

Ivy is adopted!

We gave a lease on life to Ivy on her first day of life. We warmed and nourished her. We invited Baby, our mother cat, to come visit her. Baby showed every tendency of accepting the kitten, even though she was not her own.

As she grew into a social kitty-being, we held and petted her. She began to get playful and we encouraged her light-hearted antics with yarn and balls. We began to introduce her to solid foods. She went outdoors with us a time or two. She caught the scent of the fresh earth as I weeded my flower garden.

Although Baby regularly came in to visit Ivy, three days ago, I went outdoors to weed my flowerbed. As I worked Baby, our 3-footed mother cat, joined me and little Ivy. I noticed Baby grabbing Ivy’s neck fur and she seemed to be tugging. At last she got a good grip and Ivy and Baby moved across the grass together. I thought this was a bit odd, but I thought I would keep an eye on the two of them. Soon Baby had gotten the kitten under the garden fence and began taking her across the farm road to a shed. I continued to watch. Baby paused for a rest on the road. Soon she moved the kitten past and heavy door and into a nearby shed. I felt more confident that Baby was trying to add Ivy to her nest of kittens. So I slowly moved into the shed to see where the nest was.

As soon as Baby sensed my presence she dropped Ivy from the perch where she had lifted her. Her big round eyes almost pleaded for assistance. I saw that Baby was heading up with the kitten, so I lifted Ivy to a small platform 4-feet up from the shed floor. Baby appeared to want me and Ivy to follow her. Ivy in hand, I did just that. Baby then descended between the shed wall and the shed siding. There was no light. I did not want to drop little Ivy into a black hole. I waited and listened. I heard kittens mewing below. “Ahah! This is the kittens nest,” I thought. So carefully I lowered Ivy into Baby’s nest of 2 black tabby kittens.

Baby worked so hard to adopt little Ivy. But she saw me as an asset and led me so that I could make her job easier. Little Ivy became comfortable with her new siblings and Baby. Although she still likes to visit us in the house she is adjusting very well to the outdoors.

Events along the way have included her eyes opening up. As a teeny kitten with eyes closed, she could sometimes sense when we turned the light on in the room where she lived. But, once her eyes opened, she soon learned about her surroundings and became interested in exploring. “Lights on” stimulated her. She dearly wanted our attention. Her loud mewing signaled us she was ready.

She was small enough to live in her box, but with our companionship, we picked her up and let her check out the kitchen floor. After awhile, she tired of the exercise and looked for a soft place to settle. You see, her petite size made it impossible for her to scale the sides of her box. Yet, she found a soft place to nap in my daughters bedroom slipper.

Ivy, serious about napping, finds her spot.

This orphan kitten showed positive signs of growth and adjustment to living with us. She got so she could sleep all night without being dropper-fed. With her health no longer in jeopardy, we felt it we were free to choose a name for her.

Naming the kittens on the farm can be done by their appearance, their traits, etc. This kitten tended to look white. Yet the white was subdued. It was not gray, nor did it appear as pure as fresh fallen snow. She looked a bit ivory in color. “Ivory” was considered in the name list. As a newborn she seemed squirmy. So we thought “Squirrelly” might fit her. Another take on her appearance prompted us to consider, “Dusty”. After all of choices, “Ivory” seemed best. However, the name seemed awkwardly long to say. Hence, we shortened it to “Ivy”.

After a few weeks, Ivy became notably stronger and energetic. I spied her sitting and grooming herself. She still met with Baby, her adoptive, mother each day for some motherly attention.

Early in the second week of the kitten’s life, a new blessed event happened on the farm. Baby, our 3-footed cat, had a litter. Since she was an abandoned kitten that my daughter had saved years ago, we let her in the basement for a nice lunch when she comes around. She came in purring ferociously. Just petting her set her off. Her maternal faculties were in full gear. Little did we know, that Baby would become a real helper in the farmhouse.

Baby had three kittens. One of them died. So she is suckling two little black tabby kittens. They are very small, much smaller than the one we are nurturing in the farmhouse. My daughters set up a nice little bed for Baby and her kittens in the straw in the dairy barn. They also set out a dish for Baby. My husband feeds her milk out there.

Nevertheless, Baby made it a habit to come to the farmhouse for a handout. I invited her inside. She trounced down the stairs to the cement basement floor and got her ration of cat food. I was doing a bit of laundry down there as she ate. As the washer-cycle started, Baby hopped into a laundry basket, purring loudly and resting on my ready-to-be-laundered blue jeans.

An idea dawned on me. As content as she seemed, I wondered, “Would Baby accept the orphan kitten now?” I called up the stairs for one of my daughters to bring the kitten to me. I took the kitten and carefully set it beside Baby. She began to mother the kitten!! She licked it up and down. She let the kitten nuzzle her and find a nipple. She nursed this little creature like it was her own. I left them together for about 20 minutes. Then I put Baby out. We could not tempt her to leave her two kittens for this little abandoned one.

Several times we have let Baby indoors to cuddle with the kitten here in the house. Her kittens in the barn are doing well and so is ours. As a result of Baby’s diligent washing of the kitten in our kitchen, the kitten’s fur is nice and soft. Baby did us a real favor to bathe her. For us, that was a blessed event.

Come again to find out how things are going for our orphan kitten.

See our cards in the catalog. We have several drawings of Baby’s hideout, the Dairy Barn.

The saga of raising a motherless kitten continues in the farmhouse. At 2-3 days old we noticed this particular kitten could purr. The ever-so-slight purr is barely audible. It is so gentle that her whole body does not vibrate like it does with adult cats. But I am sure that will come.

We searched for the kitten’s mother and brought her indoors to sniff at the kitten. We hoped that her maternal instincts might bring her to nurse the kitten. But the mother sniffed, let us give her some milk and was ready to move on. We found another experienced mother cat, who was very pregnant. We let her check out the kitten and she just hissed at the little orphan and would have nothing to do with it.

We became more determined to care for the little one ourselves.

The baby cat’s coat was not terribly soft due to the spillage of formula when she sucked the dropper. I tried to clean her with a wet cotton ball. I rubbed her under her neck and on her legs and attempted to clean the whole length of her body. It was important to gently clean between her hind legs with a cotton ball. (That motion prompts a kitten to eliminate her waste. We want to keep all of her systems working, you know.)

About one week after the kitten made entrance into the farmhouse, my cat-raising daughter returned for a longer visit. She stepped up to the task of nurturing the little one. Gladly, I stepped aside as she took night-duty for me. By the time she had returned for her visit, she could easily see that the kitten was visibly larger than when we first met her. Evidently, we were doing something right.

Besides having kittens born in spring, we have floral happenings that awaken this time of year. Check them out in our catalog.